Beautiful Surrender (The Surrender Series Book Three) Page 7

  He took a couple steps toward where I was standing just inside his door. “Close that,” he said.

  I knew that tone. He was seconds away from kissing me, and if that started, there was no way I was going to end up talking to him about the pregnancy. I held up the file I had prepared for presenting the strategy I had in mind for his assets. “We should get through this,” I said. “It is important, after all. I also have something else to tell you afterwards, something unrelated to business.”

  “It must be about pleasure then. I’m looking forward to it, Kitten.”

  I smiled but inwardly resisted letting his usual effect on me take hold. Vincent didn’t need any extra encouragement to keep teasing me and I didn’t need him trying to derail my carefully laid plan.

  “Not quite, let’s just take it one thing at a time.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. Where do you want me?”

  In context it sounded sexual and my sex instinctively tightened at his tone. With how busy he’d been the past few weeks and the crazy events that happened, it seemed like forever since we had sex. I needed to focus. One thing at a time. First get through your presentation and then you can tell him about the baby.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head. “Yes, sorry. I was just thinking about my presentation.”

  He laughed. “I hope you’re not as nervous as you were the first time we were in this office. Though I rather enjoyed that conversation . . . ”

  Even though he got a smile out of me, I knew I had to get this discussion back on track. “Sorry Vincent, don’t think that’s happening today.”

  “Okay, well once you’re done presenting these materials maybe we can move on to phase two of the meeting.”

  Vincent clearly had a different idea of how phase two of the meeting was going to go.

  “We can just sit on the couch,” I said.

  How would he react when he found out about the baby? It was clear from our weekend visit with Giselle that Vincent loved Brady, but that was his nephew. He didn’t have to take care of Brady every day. Would he feel the same way if the child was his? Would he be willing to sacrifice his lifestyle for that?

  He took a seat. “I hope I can have your undivided attention here,” he said. “Otherwise I’ll have to make sure.”

  Lewd images of the different ways he’d “make sure” flashed in my mind before I took a deep breath and smiled up at him. “Sorry, I’m just preoccupied with some things at work.”

  Hopefully a discussion of the facts and figures of his wealth would deflate things. I handed him the binder I had put together for this presentation.

  He smiled at me. I waited for him to speak, but he continued to watch me, saying nothing.

  I blinked and plowed ahead, opening the binder and turning past the cover page to the executive summary. I launched into an explanation of the different strategies we had prepared for him.

  He nodded, attentive, though there was also still a knowing smirk on his face.

  “Any questions so far?” I asked.

  He shook his head, pursing his lips as if to avoid smiling.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He looked at me a few beats. Still fighting back a smile, he finally spoke. “Are you listening to yourself?”

  I scrunched my face. What was he talking about? “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, you’ve been doing fine. It’s just . . .” He trailed off.

  “What?”

  Then I heard it. I had the tiny rasp I sometimes got in my voice when I was turned on.

  I cleared my throat then pursed my lips, trying to think of what to say. This was not going to plan. Not my plan anyway, though Vincent seemed to be enjoying himself. Damn these pregnancy hormones.

  “Vincent, this is important.”

  “Do you know how you look right now?” Vincent’s eyes flickered up and down my body, I could almost feel his invisible fingers caressing my curves slowly. His tongue darted out and wet his lips slightly.

  “You should see yourself in a mirror, you look too fuckable. I could just tear your clothes off right now. It’s been too long. We both know we’re far overdue for sex.”

  The desire in his voice sent a spike of heat to my core. I squirmed, rubbing my legs together. For some reason, I thought about the first time I was here in his office. We were right here on his couch. Except we were lying down, not sitting, and his hands had been sliding up my thigh. I looked at him and blushed, hoping that he couldn’t read my mind. I needed to get this back on track.

  “Don’t you care about managing your assets?”

  He moved closer to me, his leg pressing right up against mine. It was good that we were sitting down, because looking into his deep brown eyes, I felt ready to melt. He lifted his right hand, gliding the back of his fingers down the side of my face.

  “You’re my most valuable asset right now,” he whispered.

  A shiver ran down the back of my spine. He was being so sweet and it was getting more difficult by the minute to resist him.

  “I’m serious, Vincent.”

  He closed the binder and set it down on the glass coffee table. “Listen, I trust the strategy you’ve put together for me, and I’m sure I can read through this on my own when I’m less distracted. We don’t need to decide on a strategy right this minute.”

  Vincent turned back to me, a fire burning in his eyes. He caressed my hair with one hand, moving down my tender exposed neck, and with his other gripped my bare leg possessively. I closed my eyes, delighting in the sensations for a moment.

  “What if someone hears us?” I whispered.

  “These glass walls could stop bullets. No one will hear us.”

  “Vincent.”

  “Kitten, I’ve wanted to take you in this office since the first time you were here.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you . . .”

  “Shhh . . . it can wait. I can’t.”

  Who knew what would happen between us after he learned about the pregnancy. I decided I could wait a little longer to tell him so that we could enjoy each other’s bodies, in this moment. It might be the last time.

  His mouth covered mine, claiming a kiss. My body betrayed me, responding to his touch like it belonged to him. I leaned back until I was lying down on the couch, Vincent’s chest pressed against mine.

  His fingers eased down toward my pussy, which was on fire. I arched my hips up to give him better access, desperate for him to touch me. He obliged and pressed against my soaked underwear.

  “You’re so wet for me, Kristen. Tell me where you want me now.” He slid a finger around my panties and into my pussy, hitting the perfect spot. He massaged my tender spot slowly, drawing out my pleasure, as if he was demonstrating his control over my body.

  It sent me over the edge. I came hard, biting the fabric of his shirt to stop from crying out. Bucking wildly, my muscles contracted in spasms that would have been painful if they didn’t feel so earth shatteringly good. Vincent kept hold of me, his lone finger pulsing against my g-spot.

  When I had finally finished, I eased up and saw I had left mascara on his shirt to go along with the color on my lips. Turning to his face, I saw a mixture of surprise and arousal in his expression.

  He took his finger out of me and grabbed my hips. Looking up at me, he smiled wickedly. “You were ready, weren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Sorry about your shirt.”

  He looked over dismissively. “I have another. Do you?”

  I looked at my blouse, but it was fine.

  He squeezed my hips. In response, I kissed him desperately on the mouth. I loved it when he challenged me. He knew just which buttons to press and when. In this case, he had lit a new fire to go along with my already aching need.

  I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, my mouth still pressed against his. Finding the prize I had been looking for, I relished the sensations of his smooth chest, taut and hard. His nipple rings w
ere polished and surprisingly warm under my hand.

  “Kitten,” he groaned. “I need to be inside you.”

  I nodded.

  Vincent picked me up, flipping me over. I kneeled on the couch, turning my back to him. He slid his hand up my thigh, groping me possessively. God, I needed him inside me. I spread my legs wider for him, giving him better access, thrusting my needy sex closer towards him. The air felt cool against my skin, making me hyper aware of how exposed I was to him. I heard his belt unbuckle.

  My body shuddered as he entered me. I clenched involuntarily around him as he dragged the turgid tip of his cock against my slick inner walls. I didn’t know how much more I could take, the pleasure was too intense.

  “Vincent, please . . . ”

  He continued to thrust into me, repeatedly hitting my pleasure center, until we shattered together. I felt him come inside me, his warm seed mixing with my fluids and I followed soon after, arching myself into the air, offering Vincent my body. Afterwards he collapsed on me and we laid there on the couch.

  His weight on top of me was comforting. We breathed in sync, recovering slowly from our ecstasy. After he wiped the evidence of our encounter from my leg, we curled up together on the couch. We were both sweaty, but it felt good to have his warmth next to me.

  It had to be now or it wasn’t going to happen today. I needed to tell him I was pregnant. Now it was time to see how he was going to react. At least I knew he would be in the best possible mood.

  I took a deep breath as my heart started beating faster in anticipation of the fallout. “Vincent—”

  The intercom buzzed, sending my insides into freefall.

  “Mr. Sorenson, security just called up. Mr. Rodriguez and Mr. Bennet are here for you. Shall I let them know you and Ms. Daley aren’t finished?”

  Vincent untangled himself from me and strode over to his desk. He tilted his head questioningly at me as if asking me if we were done. A loose strand of hair on his face, coupled with his dimpled smile gave him a boyish look.

  I couldn’t tell him. He—no—we were so happy in the moment, that I couldn’t spoil it and drop this bomb on him just before leaving. The important part wasn’t so much me telling him as his reaction, and leaving right after I told him wouldn’t allow me to see that. With that in mind, I nodded quietly and straightened myself out.

  “No Lucy, we’re just wrapping up. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “I’ll let them know.”

  “Thank you, Lucy.”

  He turned to me and the anxiety I had before the meeting returned. We needed to have a discussion about how to handle this, but it won’t be right now. There will be other opportunities. I had at least a few more weeks before I had to make a final decision about the baby.

  “Sorry about that, they’re a little early. That’s Kurt and Bernie, they’re keeping tabs on Marty, just as a precaution. You can stay if you want to sit in.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I have to get back to work anyway.”

  Vincent watched me for a moment then shrugged. “I promise, I’ll read through those materials tonight and we can talk about them.”

  “Thank you. Sorry we couldn’t get through everything we needed to.”

  He smiled. “I think we found a better substitute for our time, don’t you.”

  I returned the smile and continued to straighten out my hair.

  He laughed quietly as he went to his closet and found a new dress shirt. “You’re good to go, right?”

  I was sure I looked a mess, but I could deal with it on my own time. “I’ll stop in the ladies room before I head out.”

  He finished buttoning up. “Good as new,” he said.

  He opened the door to let me out first. He left, and I headed to the ladies room. Just as I entered, my phone buzzed. It was Riley:

  How did the pregnancy convo with V go?

  I texted back.

  Interrupted. Will do it soon.

  I leaned against the bathroom counter and let out a long sigh. It was just a little more time, that was all. I had weeks before I would be showing; surely I could find a good time before then. Missing this chance wasn’t the end of the world.

  ***

  That evening, when my head was clearer, I realized my mistake. While it was true that I didn’t need to tell Vincent right away, I hadn’t counted on the storm cloud hanging over my head every minute I didn’t tell him.

  After an hour of trying to distract myself with TV and cleaning, I decided that the sooner I told him the better. Vincent was too distracting in his office, dressed in his business attire, but maybe we’d both be more focused if we had the conversation at my place.

  I called Vincent at his office and asked him to come over, telling him that I absolutely had to see him to talk to him about something. He sounded concerned and told me he would swing by in a couple hours. That done, I talked to Riley about having the apartment to myself for the evening. Good friend that she was, she called her friend Jen and was out for the night.

  As I waited for Vincent to come by, I was determined that there would definitely not be a replay of what happened earlier that day in his office.

  Chapter Six

  On my way now. Be there in 10 mins.

  After reading Vincent’s text, I took a deep breath and set my phone down on the glass coffee table.

  I started heating up water on the stove to make tea. It would help calm my nerves along with Vincent’s during the delicate conversation. I sat on the couch rehearsing the lines I’d prepared to say to him as I smoothed out my t-shirt and jeans.

  A few minutes later, a knock at the door startled me. Three raps followed by the faint sound of a man clearing his throat.

  I got up from my seat and walked to the door. Looking through the peephole, I saw Vincent standing on my doormat. He was wearing a forest-green polo with sleeves that stretched against his arms and khaki shorts which showcased the taut muscles in his legs. He must’ve changed after work. He was shifting his feet, which betrayed his apprehension. Did he suspect what I was about to tell him?

  I opened the door. “Hey,” I said, pasting on the smile I’d prepared beforehand. It was easier once I saw his breathtaking face.

  His expression brightened. “Hey,” he said, smiling back at me.

  “Come on in.” I stepped back, pulling the door wider and gesturing him inside.

  “Should I take off my shoes?”

  He was wearing a clean pair of sneakers that matched his polo. I half-suspected he was probing me with the question. Telling him to leave his shoes on could be interpreted as a sign that I was breaking up with him. This was going to be a long conversation and he deserved to be comfortable.

  “You can take them off.”

  He removed his shoes and set them carefully next to the pile of flats and heels in the corner near the coat rack.

  “Would you like something to drink? I’m in the middle of making some tea.” I studied his body language. He was slightly tense, his movements lacking the usual primal confidence.

  “I’m fine, thank you.”

  The formality of his response made the situation even more awkward. “Okay.” Once he was clear of the entrance, I leaned forward to close the door. The closing of the door would mark the beginning of a very difficult conversation.

  Here goes.

  The door made an unexpected thud as I tried to jam it shut. I glanced down and saw a dark brown boot wedged into the door frame.

  Huh?

  A dull, metallic chrome object slid through the narrow opening in the door. The shape was small and ended in a point—aimed at Vincent’s back.

  “Stay away from her!” the voice behind the door screamed.

  A force pushed me. I staggered backward, my shoulder blades crashing against the half-wall separating the living room from the kitchen. The door flew open and a tall man with white bandages across his nose and cheeks entered my apartment. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt with black athletic pa
nts and looked very pissed off.

  Vincent spun around, startled. “How the hell—”

  “I said stay away from her,” the man shouted, hands shaking the end of the pistol. Sharp, blue eyes blazed behind thick spectacles with a crack on the right lens. Strands of dark brown hair parted down the middle hung haphazardly around his forehead.

  “Marty!” I cried. “Oh my god!” My eyes widened when I realized he had a gun in his hand.

  Vincent raised his hands in the air and began slowly backstepping further into the living room toward the window. “Calm down. Don’t do anything rash.”

  “Step away from her now.” Bandages stretched against his grimace. “I’m not going to let you hurt me or Kristen.”

  “What are you talking about?” Vincent said, eyes narrowed, his hands still in the air. “You’re the one with the gun.”

  Marty hurried over to me. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me to him, while keeping the gun trained on Vincent.

  “Where are your goons? Are they in the building?”

  Vincent paused. He looked at Marty’s hand around me then back at Marty. “They’re right across the hall. You fire that gun, they’ll hear it and come out armed.”

  Marty closed the door behind him with his foot. “I know you’re lying—like always—but just in case.” He released my hand, turning the deadbolt and hooking the chain, locking us in with him. He reached into his back pocket and threw a silver chain at Vincent’s feet. “Cuff yourself to the radiator.”

  “Marty, put down the gun! This is crazy,” I cried. My pulse was racing against my chest. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out the thoughts screaming in my mind to escape. I wanted to run but had nowhere to go. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. I was just supposed to talk to Vincent about my pregnancy.

  He turned to me, expression softening. “I’m sorry Kristen, I didn’t want to have to do this. But he gave me no choice. Please don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to protect you.”

  “Protect me?” I blurted in disbelief, my breaths coming fast and shallow.

  Marty tightened his grip on the gun aimed at Vincent’s chest then cocked it. The audible click sent a deathly shiver through me. “I’m not going to ask again. Cuff yourself to the radiator, asshole. Do it.”